


Life in the Shadow of a Goodbye

by Xenovia



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Randall Dies AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenovia/pseuds/Xenovia
Summary: Promises can't last, and nobody can spend their whole life waiting.Angela explains to Henry why she left Monte D'Or.





	Life in the Shadow of a Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a chapter in a series of old MM oneshots I did, and i actually really liked the concept so I've fully rewritten it! It's just... it's just very angsty.

The woman stirred her tea gently, gazing at the other man. He was very different to how she remembered him, and it made her sad to reminisce. His frail shoulders were far more hunched over, and there were wrinkles defining every scowl, Reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.

She wasn't surprised really; the years of searching had certainly taken their toll on him. At his age, he should’ve been barred from the expeditions when he hit his last birthday.

Though she couldn’t make too much comment, for she too wasn’t in her prime, despite leaving town many years ago. The most noticeable difference being how her famous blonde curls now hung in a loose grey bun. Many citizens couldn’t recognise her. She placed her cup on the table in front of her and tried to initiate eye contact, he was refusing to look her way.

It had been a hard decision to return to Monte D’Or. There were too many things here that reminded her, and the Inn was like a prison.

But it was near the Anniversary, it was tradition.

He’d been hostile since she’d arrived. They sat in silence as his butler shuffled around.

"How is the city doing these days?" she offered politely. Perhaps some light conversation would help; they hadn't spoken for far too long. The last telephone conversation had ended when she hung up in anger.

"Not much different since the day you left." He shot back, he still refused to make eye contact, and she could sense the bitterness in his voice. Angela sighed; she knew she'd have to deal with the aftermath of her departure sooner or later.

It had been abrupt. One day she came down with her bags already packed, a ticket for a little town up North in her hand. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but it was right. Henry would hardly even notice she’d gone. He was always busy, lost in his work. Always working on that insane belief he held.

He was always building things for Randall, saving things for Randall, clinging onto the hoped that _Randall_ would come back.

 _Everything_ was for him. They never did anything for themselves. ‘Randall’ eventually seemed like less of a lost friend and more of an unattainable prize, something she and Henry would get if they just believed and tried hard enough.

But nothing was ever enough.

No amount of wishing was going to bring him back.

She just couldn't deal with living a memory for the rest of her life. And besides, Misthallery was a nice place, a lot quieter than Monte D’Or.

But Henry wouldn’t give up. As if he wanted to live his life in the shadow of someone who was long gone.

"I know you're still upset about me going, but please, listen." She tilted her head towards him, pleading for this not to become an argument.

"I've already told you; I can listen, but it doesn't mean I'll forgive you."

"I couldn't just wait around for someone forever; I have my own life to lead." Henry finally looked her way, slapping his cup on the table. Drink spilled over the sides.

"You abandoned the search for Master Randall.”

“There was nothing to search for, we both know he's dead.” She’d been over this so many times, but he refused to see. His hope would be admirable if it hadn’t been so long. Henry’s fist clenched on the side of the chair.

“You forgot about him. Even though we promised to wait." There was that line again, as if a vow they made as teenagers was what they should base their life’s work on. She had waited. Nearly half her life wasted on waiting. 

"Don't try to make me feel guilty about this.” She got up and went to sit next to him, taking his hand in her own. “I miss him terribly, but we need to be honest with ourselves.”

"He promised he'd come back from the ruins, and I believe him." Angela ran her fingers over the man's knuckles.

"It's been over forty years, Henry. He's not going to come back.” She said, griping his hand tightly “Dalston's already forgotten, and look at him now, owns half the hotels in Britain! And Hershel clearly hasn't been affected, he never even responded to my letters." It still hurt that their old friend wouldn't speak to them, though she still caught up with all of his latest feats in the papers. He had children, and his own mystery solving business.

"But they're wrong." Henry answered quietly. Angela stopped, lips pursed and pulled her hand away. There was a silence as she debated whether to say what was on her mind.

“You know something Henry.” He looked up at her “There was a time in this marriage when I actually thought I could have loved you.” She saw his anger drop, if only for a second. “It was ridiculous but… one night I was thinking 'wouldn’t it be nice if this were real?'.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I cared about you a lot. But you were too distracted to notice.” She could see tears starting to well in the corner of his eyes, though his face showed no emotion. She could feel her own eyes stinging, and decided to go before her words caused any more grief. "It was a mistake coming here.”

Henry didn’t know if she was talking about that day or the very first day they moved to Monte D’Or. In Angela’s heart, she didn’t know the answer either.

* * *

Two children ran around the park, kicking a ball between them. The smaller one raised his arms, gesturing for the older one to send it to him. An old man with a mess of a beard watched them, smiling.

"Don' stray too far boys, you'll whack into the church yard." It was clear that the boys weren't listening, as the ball went sailing over his head and into the fenced off area beyond the park. He looked up sheepishly.

"Sorry Dad… Can you help us get it back?" The man laughed, ruffling his son's hair.

"Sure, yeh go on ahead I'll take the long way round." As the boys climbed over the wall, the old man walked round and opened the creaking gate. The boys were stood amongst the headstones with the ball in their hands "You got it already? And to think I walked all that way…." The boys didn't respond to him, curious eyes fixed on the stone in front of them.

"Why hasn't this one got a name on?" He looked down, hoping it wasn't the one he dreaded, and was sad to find that it was. A small hastily made sculpture without any flowers lain across it, or any sign of people's sympathies.

"Sad story behind that one, found the poor boy up by the river. He was dead before people could do anything about it. Nobody knew who he was, couldn’t find anything, but it felt wrong not to give him a proper send off." The boys frowned. The little one looked up to him.

"Were you there?" The man remained positive to please his son, no matter how he was feeling on the inside.

"No, but my old dad was the one who found him. It was a mighty shame. I'm sure he was a good lad." He shoved his hands into his pockets "Come on, no time for sadness now! You two go back to the park, I'll race you there!" He added with a wheeze. The children grinned and ran off. The man looked down at the grave, pulled something out of his pocket and placed it down before the headstone. "I'm sorry my boy, I'm sure you and the Tannebaum family here could have been pretty good friends."

He went to meet with his children; the grave of the nameless boy remained, his glasses and the Golden mask lay there glinting in the sunlight.

**Author's Note:**

> (Had to change the character because originally I wrote it as an older Tannebaum himself and recently realised that would make him like 100 years old.)


End file.
